


Precious Moments of Rest

by Aondeug



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Poetry, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aondeug/pseuds/Aondeug
Summary: Sleeping can be a difficult affair when there are three. But it can also be a delightful one. A series of six poems showing what sleeping is like for Kisuke, Yoruichi and Sui Feng, both together and alone.
Relationships: Shihouin Yoruichi/Sui-Feng | Soifon, Shihouin Yoruichi/Sui-Feng | Soifon/Urahara Kisuke, Shihouin Yoruichi/Urahara Kisuke, Urahara Kisuke & Sui-Feng | Soifon
Kudos: 5





	1. Anticipation

A letter arrived that day  
Carried by a young man  
Fresh out of the academy.  
“Important business,” he’d said,  
“From Second Division.”

Just as Kisuke expected,  
When he checked the note  
After the boy had gone off,  
Inside the envelop he found  
Her careful and strict hand  
Painting out a short message:  
“We are coming.”

The “we” was a formality,  
As it’d be a length of time  
From one to three days,  
Or shorter than that,  
Depending on her moods,  
For when Yoruichi arrived,  
But there was truth to it:  
They were coming.

_She was coming._

The thought kept him up that night,  
Leaving him with only a few hours of sleep.


	2. Complex Undressings

She arrives in the night,  
Back stiff, face stern.  
Her words aren’t free  
And the dinner is rough.

This is to be expected.  
It always takes her a day  
To take off her coat.

He sets his hat aside,  
Knowing look on his face.  
He’ll sleep elsewhere  
And alone this night.

That is to be expected.  
It always takes her a day  
To undo her braids.

 _She_ drags her aside,  
Will firm, grip more so.  
Her worries slide off,  
And she sinks to sleep.

Laying in _her_ arms  
Her soul is laid bare  
And her heart set free.


	3. Frustration

The delights of a cat are simple.   
A warm cushion to lay upon,  
And a peaceful place in which to sleep.  
These are the only things  
For which you ask from them this day.

Yet as you lay balled up tight,  
Dreaming of your mischiefs  
There comes a sound much too loud  
For you to keep at your napping.

You are roused by a voice  
For the briefest of moments,  
But because you are a cat  
You manage to slip comfortably back  
Into your peaceful slumber,  
Forgetting the words you’d heard  
And the voice that said them.

But again a sound calls out!  
This one a shrill cry of scandal  
Singing of irritation and shame,  
Which is then met by a laugh,  
Which prompts you to tighter curl,  
Wrapping your tail about you  
In the hopes to drown out the world,  
Or at the very least signal  
That you have but one wish  
That you are being thoroughly denied.

A hand comes next to you,  
Lingering for but a moment  
Before brushing against your back  
With a pressure a touch too rough  
For you to sleep right through.

The hand comes with a voice as well,  
His voice boasting and guffawing,  
As you raise your hackles up  
And let out a low grumble  
In the hopes to get the fool  
To quiet himself down.  
He ignores this all of course.

So as you lay you wonder  
If the second voice that speaks  
Will come to your aid  
As she has so many times before,  
Like a devoted dog ever seeking  
For the barest scrap of approval.

The answer, of course, is “No”,  
For she too lays a hand of hers  
Right upon your back to pet  
You as you try at sleeping,  
And she is gentler to be sure,  
But you are still very much awake.

They argue now and loudly so.  
This time on the proper technique  
With which to rub you with,  
While saying nothing of the growl  
That has been ever mounting yet.

At last this proves too much  
When he lets out a cackle  
While surely pointing at her  
As she sits there doing nothing  
But griping about her shames  
When you thought her trained so well.

At last it proves too much   
And you bite at the nearest hand  
Then swipe at the next too,  
Holding back none of your irritation  
For they could not hold back themselves.

He of course whines and questions,  
As she falls to her apologies,  
Neither of which move your heart   
Because a cat’s desires are simple,  
You’ve laid them out before,  
And you're being denied them this day.

So they are left behind  
Without a word being given  
As you take to the rooftops,  
Because however cold it may be  
At least there you have peace and quiet.  
However quiet you can call  
Them looking up at you in askance  
Crying out sadly, “Please come back!”


	4. Three's a Crowd

He is sprawled out,  
Snoring away,  
With a leg stretched out  
And laying atop yours  
While he dreams without a care.

She is curled up  
In a tight fetal position  
Save for a hand  
Which clings to your shirts  
With a certain desperation.

You are in the middle of it all  
Laying on your back  
With your hands on your stomach  
As you think  
What a lovely storm this all is.


	5. Simple Kindnesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Futsuka-yoi is the Japanese word for "hangover". Translated literally, it means "two days drunk".

Light!  
Voices, _sound._  
 **A throbbing ache...**  
The delights of the bottle  
Bring with them sufferings  
That illuminate the “two days”  
Of futsuka-yoi,  
With a dreadful clarity…

Not enough though  
To get the shopkeeper  
Leaving his bed.

He grumbles, mutters…  
The warmth!  
It is gone!

And there are _feet_  
Stepping light  
Across the mats…  
A door, sliding open,  
Voices trailing out,  
Talking of goodbyes,  
And his warmth...

**It is gone!**

At the noticing of which  
He curls up tight  
And at the light  
He recoils from it,  
Covering himself up  
Even tighter still  
With the blankets.  
A perfect world of dark, of warmth...

Silence

A moment

  
Five more...

There is silence.  
There is darkness.

But there is no warmth,  
Not _her_ warmth.

He can but float  
Left adrift  
In a fabric sea  
Not yet wanting  
To venture forth  
In search of she  
Who left him there.

And then!

The door!

_**It slides open!!** _

And the voice,  
It speaks mockingly  
Of how he hides  
And how she said  
That this would happen  
Should he drink so much.

Never mind that she too  
Drank heavy.  
Never mind the other  
Who refused   
Cup after cup,  
Biding her time,  
Because she can’t hold  
Her drink at all.

He says nothing of either,  
Merely moaning  
In his bed  
That he is quite cold  
And that she is too.

Perhaps...  
A cup of tea?  
Surely Tessai would make it,  
She would only need to carry it...  
A simple kindness!

But,  
She does not step out.  
The door stays closed.

There is ruffling,  
Clothes shuffling down  
To the floor.

There is light,  
However slight  
From a hole.

And there is warmth,  
There is her  
Warmly purring,  
Warmly curling  
Up against him,  
His chest,  
Bearing no kind words  
For him  
In this time of weakness.

But the world falls away,  
Harsh light and all,  
For that kindness is enough.


	6. Anxiety

The room is cold,  
The coat is folded.

She is not here,  
He is not heard.

The papers piled up,  
The fears creep back.

She is captain,  
They are not.

The night will be long,  
The morning longer.

–

_The first night alone is always the hardest._


End file.
